Winter's Tales

By Lari Don

A selection of folk tales about winter from all around the world. Find out how spiders invented tinsel, what happened when the spring girl beat the hag of winter, why snow is eagles' feathers, and how a hero with hairy trousers used ice to kill a dragon.

Stories from the Americas, Asia, Scandinavia and Europe make this a wonderfully inclusive anthology of the chilliest of tales, stunningly illustrated in papercut style.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Bloomsbury Publishing
• Release date: Oct 24, 2013
• ISBN: 9781408196915

Lari Don

Lari Don was born in Chile and spent most of her childhood traveling around South America. She is an award-winning author of children's books and short stories. Lari lives in Edinburgh, Scotland, with her cats.

Book preview

legend

The Seeds of Winter

Greek myth

When the gods were young, there was no winter.

There was no winter, no spring, no summer and no autumn. Just warmth and growth, with fruit heavy in the trees and grain tall in the fields. Every month brought a new crop to harvest, and everyone ate well.

The goddess Demeter was always busy, because it was her job to encourage all the plants to grow, but she was happy too.

Demeter had a daughter she loved very much: Persephone, whose father was the chief god Zeus. So, with her beloved plants and her beloved child both growing healthy and strong, Demeter was a glowing generous presence on the earth.

Persephone grew into a beautiful young woman: tall, slim and golden, like the wheat in her mother’s fields.

One sunny day, Persephone was picnicking with her friends at the edge of a field. They had eaten so much of the earth’s goodness – apple pies, cucumber sandwiches, honey cakes – that all her friends were full and sleepy.

But Persephone noticed something in the centre of the field. A plant she had never seen before, dark and glittering in the distance.

She asked her friends if they would come with her to examine the plant, but they yawned and said they would join her later.

So Persephone walked on her own towards the plant. As she got closer, she could see it was covered with black flowers. As she got closer still, she could see silver tips on each black petal. She knew all of her mother’s plants, but she had never seen flowers so gloriously dark and sharp.

There were nine blossoms and Persephone decided it wouldn’t harm the plant if she picked just one of them to show her mother.

So Persephone reached out to pluck the nearest flower.

But her fingers stuck to the stem. She couldn’t break the stem and she couldn’t pull her hand away.

The flower trembled. The whole plant shivered. Then the plant jerked and started to sink into the ground, as if something was pulling on the roots.

Persephone yelled for help, but her friends were asleep.

The plant was dragged down into the crumbling earth and Persephone was dragged down after it.

And she landed in the underworld.

She landed at the feet of Hades, the god of the underworld, the king of the dead.

Hades had heard of Persephone’s golden beauty and he wanted her to brighten up his dark land. So he had grown the black flowers to tempt her and he had pulled on the roots to steal her away.

Will you be my queen? he asked.

Hades offered Persephone the black blossoms as a wedding bouquet and he offered her a table of fragrant food as a wedding feast.

Persephone looked round at the dark glories and riches of the underworld. She heard the whispered histories and knowledge of the dead. She smiled at Hades and she accepted the flowers, but she didn’t eat any of the feast, because she suspected eating the food of the underworld could trap her there forever.

Up above, Demeter was starting to panic. Persephone hadn’t come home after the picnic, and although Demeter had no idea where her daughter was, she was afraid someone had taken her.

So she rushed up to Olympus and demanded to see Zeus.

Where is our daughter? she sobbed.

The most powerful of the gods frowned, then shrugged. He had a lot of children and it was hard to keep track of them all.

But Demeter’s grief was growing louder and Zeus was fond of Persephone, so he sent Hermes, the messenger of the gods, to investigate. Hermes returned with rumours of a new queen in the underworld, with hair more golden than a crown.

That’s her! cried Demeter. That’s Persephone! Bring her back! Please, Zeus, bring our girl back!

So Zeus sent Hermes down to the underworld, with instructions to ask Hades politely to give the girl back to her mother.

But Hades refused. She’s happy here, aren’t you, dear? And she makes me happy. What would she do back at her mother’s, anyway? Weed the garden and thin out the carrots? She’s wasted there. Tell Zeus I’m keeping her here.

Hermes took that message back to Zeus, who shrugged and said there was nothing he could do.

Demeter wailed and screamed and stomped around the marble halls of Olympus. Then she calmed down and said in a quiet voice, If you are going to do nothing, then I will do nothing too. I will do nothing at all.

And she did indeed do nothing. Demeter refused to help the plants and grass and crops grow.

She